


Lockscreen

by wordswehavesaid



Series: Tumblr prompts [14]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pranks, Team Arrow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 01:43:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6732922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordswehavesaid/pseuds/wordswehavesaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Prompt) Picture this : Barry being Oliver's lockscreen</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lockscreen

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a process of transferring over fics from my tumblr...long story short these will probably be the last of that. Hope you enjoy!

The first iPhone isn’t released until the summer of 2007, after Oliver finds himself shipwrecked on Lian Yu. The intervening years never provide an opportunity for him to encounter the tech either until his return to Starling and Oliver, being the single-minded utilitarian individual he is at the time, only learns how to set a password and to call and text, and that's it. Everything on his phone is set to default. He doesn’t even know he can have a custom lockscreen, nor does he care much.

A couple years or so later a lot has changed, including meeting one Barry Allen and becoming vigilante partners with him. They’re training together one afternoon and they’ve both got their things set to the side. Oliver calls for a break so they can hydrate or eat in Barry’s case and goes over, checks his phone before setting it aside and grabbing up his water bottle, turning away from it.

His cell phone’s just sitting there, right in the open, and Barry knows he’d be more than fast enough to pull this off. It’s almost _too_ tempting.

So he zips over, enters the password he watched Oliver enter in near slow motion and snaps a quick selfie before going into the man’s settings. He’s back standing in the same spot before Oliver takes a single gulp of water, though the man pauses for a minute like he’s detected a slight breeze or crackle to the air.

“What?” Barry asks, trying for innocence and probably failing. He can feel the way his heart rate’s picked up and the growing heat to his cheeks means he’s likely blushing in a dead giveaway. Oliver shrugs it off regardless.

“Nothing. Get one of those calorie bars of yours, we’ve still got another hour for me to kick your ass.”

With a shake of his head and a smile that hides a secret all his own for now, Barry hurries to do as asked. But only to prove that the other vigilante is going to be _so_ wrong on that second count.

Oliver doesn’t discover what’s up until long after Barry’s returned to Central City for the evening, and he’s not actually the one who does. He’s in the middle of target practice in the Cave when his phone starts buzzing from where it sits next to Felicity’s mouse pad.

She leans over to take a quick glance, remarking offhand, “It’s Dig, Oliv–” before cutting off with a short laugh.

“What?”

“Um, nothing,” she says with a little shake of her head, a smile playing at her lips. “But, uh, when did this happen?”

He crosses the room as she holds up the device and he’s soon able to see what she’s talking about. Barry’s grinning with mischief up at him, a thumb jerked to the side at Oliver in the background raising his water bottle to his lips.

“How did–?” He’s not even sure what he’s asking.

“He changed your lockscreen,” Felicity informs him, still visibly amused. “Oh, but, you’re going to miss John’s call.”

He takes the phone and enters his password, the speedster’s image disappearing off the screen. Oliver tries to make the same happen in his head as he puts the device to his ear. “Dig?”

Late that night he finally has another chance to take a look at his phone, pressing random icons in the hope that something will pop up to tell him what to do about Barry’s little prank. But it’s unfortunately incomprehensible to him, or at least to his patience. When he passes the device over to Felicity in a silent demand, she pretends not to notice it, simply grabbing up her coat to head out for the evening with a “Goodnight,” chirped over her shoulder.

He spends the next day and a half closely guarding his phone from possible prying eyes, mostly the other members of his team, before finally caving and asking each in turn for help. And he’s reminded once again that they all maybe enjoy jokes at his expense a little _too_ much.

“Honestly Oliver, if you can rig countless trick arrows to work, you can figure out an iPhone,” Laurel tells him with a smirk.

Thea comments airily, “I don’t know, I kind of like it. Gives your phone a little personality.”

Dig just raises an eyebrow, a silent _you think I want to get involved in this?_ if Oliver’s ever seen one.

So it looks like he’s stuck with the damn photo. Not that it’s a bad one, it’s just…well, Barry. At the least, they’re both in civilian clothes and not their suits in the picture, so it’s not as if he has anything to complain about there. And it _is_ a good photo of Barry. The cheekiness to his smile, the good humor that seems to shine from his eyes, and that tilt of his thumb in Oliver’s direction as if echoing his tease of _what a guy_ , all captured in a single frozen moment. He finds himself hitting the button on the side of his phone when he’s alone more often than not, only to end up looking at the photo until the screen turns black again.

He’d never noticed before, but Barry’s eyes have a ring of green around the pupils. Oliver had always called them hazel. His smile creates dimples at the corners of his mouth. And his hair, well-mussed and tousled from the training, looks…soft. 

The others, upon catching a glimpse of his lockscreen over the next couple weeks, all assume he’s simply given up. But is it giving up when he’s come to the realization that he doesn’t want it to change? If he keeps that thought to himself, of course, it’s all the same thing.

At least, until the next time Barry’s in town. He and Oliver are sparring again, and talking in between about their teams, the state of their cities, and simply their own lives. The training is mostly an excuse for them to catch up like this, unload their troubles and listen to the other’s in a way only they seem to understand. Oliver feels relaxed and happy, smiling and laughing at the other man’s anecdotes and jokes, pride and affection glowing warm inside when he gets the younger man laughing at a few of his own.

But then Barry casually asks, “Hey, you know what time it is?” Then is standing over by their things and reaching for Oliver’s phone before he can get more than the other man’s name out. Barry pauses, staring down at the screen in puzzlement. Then he looks up and holds it out as if to show it to Oliver - like the image isn’t practically seared into his memory by now.

“You kept it?” There’s a curious lilt to his voice, while a questioning smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

Oliver’s already throwing excuses out into the air between them as he crosses the room stiffly before he can register that, however. “I didn’t really know how to change it back. I don’t use my phone much.”

“Oh.” And there’s no mistaking the slump to Barry’s shoulders at that, the note of disappointment. He covers it well in the next instant, remarking, “Well, you could’ve just asked then. Here, I’ll just–”

“No!” His hand circles around Barry’s wrist to stop him before his fingers can fl across the keypad, and the startled look that gets makes him realize how sharp he sounded. He clears his throat and tries again. “I mean, you don’t have to. I…it’s a good photo.”

Barry’s look is nearly indecipherable as he stares at Oliver for a long moment. “You think?” His throat feels dry, and he can only nod. The speedster takes a moment to think that over, too, before saying slowly, “You know…I could probably take a better one. If you want. Just, um, stand there and look - never mind you got that covered - just stand there. Maybe smile or something.”

“Ok,” he agrees, slightly dubious, but follows the instruction none-the-less. There’s a blur of motion around him, he feels a brief pressure around his waist and against his cheek but is distracted by the sudden flash of light. Then his phone’s back in his hands and Barry’s standing in front of him, looking nervous and yet…hopeful. He nods once at the device.

Oliver presses a button and the screen lights up again. Only instead of the photo he’s accustomed to it’s a new one. Him and Barry smiling at the camera, the younger man’s arms wrapped around his waist and cheek pressed against his own.

“I, uh,” Barry coughs and continues, “I told you I could hug you without you knowing.”

“Except now I do,” he reminds, shaking the phone.

Barry’s cheeks are turning a dull red color under his gaze. “Right.”

“You’re right, too,” he adds. “This one is better.” Oliver finally lets the smile show on his face, and with a shaky exhale Barry returns it. The pair of them stand there like that just grinning at each other for a minute. Yet suddenly the device buzzes in his hand, causing him to tense and Barry to jump in surprise.

“You, um, you probably should…get that–”

“Forget the phone,” he decides, tossing it aside and instead reaching out to tug Barry to him and crush their lips together. Pictures are only so good compared to the real thing, after all.


End file.
